by Sherry Stocking Kline
January 17, 2010
Here’s my Saturday Night Genealogy Fun – one day (almost two) late!
Hey there, it’s Saturday Night, time for more Genealogy Fun from Randy Seaver at Geneamusings!!
Your mission, should you decide to accept it (cue the Mission Impossible music!), is:
1) Remember when you were 12 years old? On a summer day out of school? What memory do you have of fun activities?
2) Tell us about that memory (just one – you can do more later if you want to) in a blog post, in a comment to this post, or in a comment on Facebook.
I was twelve years old. And it was my second trip to Camp Wentz. My mom and dad thought it would be good for me to go, and they were right.
At Camp Wentz, the day began with giggly, groggy girls dragging out of their bunk beds, and hurrying to the bathroom cabin. In my case, I struggled each morning to tame my past-the-waist-length sun-streaked-blonde hair into scruffy braids, then walked the 100 yards or to to eat breakfast in the dining hall and watch for the cute blond kid I had a crush on. (oh, be still my twelve-year-old heart)
I learned how to Braid plastic keychains…
Then there were crafts in the dining hall where I learned how to braid plastic key chains and lanyards as gifts for my parents. I was much better at braiding those than my hair. (I brought home a keychain for mom, and a watch ‘chain’ for my dad’s pocket watch, which he promptly put on his watch, and then unfortunately it broke within the first week I was home)
Then there were devotional studies, and my absolute morning favorite, the one hour swim time before lunch.
Then lunch (more keeping my eyes peeled for the cute blond kid) and afterwards back to the cabins to rest and write letters to our parents back home.
My mom still has and still laughs about one of my first letters back home with the quote:
“Hi Mom and Dad, I miss you, but not very much…”
Then it was time for late afternoon swim. I loved going swimming, and turning into a prune didn’t worry me, and that was before we knew that sunburns had long-term consequences, so I spent all the time I could on outdoor activities and swimming.
So much so that when I went home I shocked my mother who said that I “was brown as an Indian” and she spent the whole next week trying to scrub the tan off of my neck, convinced part of it had to be dirt. (I swear a couple of times it felt like she was using a pot scrubber on me…)
Located on the side of a hill, Camp Wentz with it’s limestone cabins, many trees, and lakeside location was very picturesque.
Every night as we sat on the side of a hill for our devotionals the lights of the city across the lake twinkled in the distance. Sitting on the side of the hill, listening to lessons about God’s love for us, watching the sun set (and yes, fighting the mosquitoes and watching for the blond kid) we sang Bible school songs and hymns.
“We are Climbing Jacob’s ladder….”
And every night, after devotionals were over, as we climbed back up the hill we sang “We are climbing Jacob’s ladder…. Every rung goes higher, higher… our flashlights bobbing in the dark like little fireflies as we wove our way back to our cabins where bedtime prayers and ghost stories blended together in the time before sleep came.